


Darn you, Arthur Weasley!

by HarvestGreen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 'T' rating might be slightly justified, Gen, Swearing, Voldy's the only major character that dies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-26 08:27:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30103092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HarvestGreen/pseuds/HarvestGreen
Summary: This is a collection of chronological-ish snippets about the true thing Voldemort Does Not Know, and how it ruins his plans time and time again. Not love, no. It is amalgamations of magic and muggle, perhaps the ultimate ones. The creations of one Arthur Weasley. Entirely without the creator’s knowledge, of course. He follows the law, and so has no intent to use it.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Darn you, Arthur Weasley!

Voldemort sank into the bath, and his eyes closed. Soon, the dark side would  _ crush _ this newly-minted order of the phoenix, but for now, he wanted a bit of a break to relax. Thus, the bathtub.

But then, he heard something quite unexpected. A squeak? His lids parted, and, if his eyes were not decieving him, right in  _ his _ bathtub, was a yellow rubber duck.

For a long moment, the dark lord simply stared at this unorthodox intruder. Then the thing compressed itself and  _ squeak! _ was heard once more.

Voldemort struck the moment after the noise had ended. Whatever put the duck in the bathtub could wait for now; this disgrace would be destroyed. How dare it interrupt his one day a week of relaxation, if only for a moment? Unforgivable.

But as the waters of the tub swirled up to crush it, the duckie placidly slid to the side, narrowly avoiding death.

Voldemort stared, confounded. The bath had been attempting to crush it, and not a single wave should have aided its escape. Well, if it doesn’t work the first time, try again.

This time, however, he felt it appropriate to remove it from the tub first. Let it try and  _ slide away _ then. He raised his hand and took careful aim.

_ «Deporto»  _ he chanted. The yellow bother flew out of the tub at high speed, hit the wall, bounced, impacted straight into his forehead and fell back into the tub.

Some hours later, one brave death eater thought to come in and very politely ask what was occupying the dark lord for so long, and came upon he-who-shall-not-be-named attempting with great vigour to throttle a bath duck while water slid down the walls and dripped from the ceiling.

They quietly shut the door.

The mirror clattered out of Harry’s pocket as he was fumbling desperately away from the basilisk. It was enchanted to tell you how you looked, and on such an old piece it did not count as a 'muggle object’ and so Mr. Weasley had quite happily given it to harry for christmas.

A voice rang out from the device as the basilisks hide was reflected in it’s shine. «Goodness, darling, you have most certainly seen better days! That green shade cannot be healthy. At least you have tamed the hair.»

The basilisk turned to eye this new, unexpected threat. It promptly froze. It would stay that way for quite a long time, having looked into it’s own eyes.

Harry proceeded to, in a not particularly dramatic fashion, jam the diary onto one of it’s fangs.

Nagini tasted the air, crawling down the halls towards the hall of prophecies. Soon the prophecy would be known by her master. She hoped for a mouse. Perhaps Pettigrew.

She caught sight of the guard, and recognized him instantly.  _ The Mastersss’ other rival. _

That Weasley’s inventions had confunded and infuriated the dark side during the last war. Who knew such a random assortment of  _ muggle _ items could prove so inconvenient? It was well known amongst the death eaters that the dark lord desired Arthur Weasley dead almost as much as Dumbledore himself.

He was asleep now, however. No-one here to save him, not even to warn him before it was  _ too late. _ Who knows, maybe she could actually get to eat Pettigrew if she killed him? It was worth hoping. That rat had been annoying the Master more than usual recently.

She could already envision it, her fangs sinking into hi-  ** AAAH!! **

****

Now, something to know is that Arthur had lost track of an item he had just about finished enchanting earlier. Yes, while in the ministry. It was quite hard for an inexperienced eye to discern between enchanting and dis-enchanting, and his coworker was silent as the grave.

That item was a mouse trap. The part he hadn’t finished was the specifics of the targeting enchantments. It currently hunted pests. Quite a few ministry workers had their shoes nibbled on before it decided they didn’t quite qualify.

It had prowled outside of the minister’s office for over an hour before giving up on clamping on to Umbridge’s, well, anything really. Preferably the hand. Or the nose.

The point is, it had somehow managed to be moved to the department of mysteries.

And it had spotted something that rang all the 'pest!' alarms, and so, it chomped down on Nagini’s nose with all it’s might, and now we’re back to five paraghraphs ago.

_ Get it off, get it off, GET IT OFF!  _ Nagini shook wildly, but the blasted device  _ would not  _ let go.

The ruckus produced by this desperate battle woke Arthur, who proceeded to pale and rapidly conjure a thick, fine mesh cage, and report to the order. And so, Voldemort was foiled yet again.

The Manor shook with his enraged cry of «Damn you, Arthur Weasley!»

Hogwarts was at war, and the trio were staring down a spider, a beast of one, as large as a car. It’s mandibles  _ clicked _ ominously. But before it could attempt to feast upon them, it heard  _ the noise. _ It froze immediately, it’s eight eyes looking desperately for the source.

But it did not look up. A mistake, it realized, as the Ford Anglia descended upon it like a bird of prey. The following massacre of spider was so gruesome, it has been removed to preserve the rating.

«Holy shit» said Ron, drenched from head to toe in spider insides, «that was the greatest thing I’ve ever seen.»

The car ascended into the sky once more, and every spider assaulting the castle felt a sense of impending doom. The Ford Anglia would soon be upon them.

Harry was just about to answer Narcissa, to assure her of Draco’s health, but he heard an unexpected noise. The rumble of... an engine? What would an engine be doing here?

The sound grew louder at a rapid pace. The assembled death eaters looked around in confusion.

«What? What dares disturb my moment of triumph?» said Voldemort, also looking around for the cause of the by now roaring engine.

The woods, previously dimmed by the crowns of the trees, were bathed in a yellow ocean. Something burst into the clearing. Voldemort recognized it the moment the headlights appeared.

«DAMN YOU, ARTHUR WEASLE-» was all he got out before the Ford Anglia turned him into a fine red paste.

And so, Arthur Weasley had, entirely unintentionally mind you, defeated the dark lord with what he knew not. A marvelous creation of muggle engineering and wizard magic.

A flying car.

**Author's Note:**

> Bringing the car back would have been awesome. I thought of this with some discussion about the car coming in the seventh to show the evil-aligned spiders it was still the boss. Decided to make it a snippet chain about how Arthur’s magicked muggle things keep foiling the derk lord’s plans, entirely without the enchantor of said devices knowing, creating an entirely one-sided nemesis relationship.


End file.
